Friend of a Friend
by AgathaKillian
Summary: Charlie Bradbury just wants to spend a night playing videogames and drinking tea, but is interrupted by a sudden supernatural event. While she rushes to the Winchesters side, she casually meets a certain friend of a friend.


**So this is a one-shot of what I believe happened elsewhere during and immediately after season 8 finale. Or what it should happen. Seriously, how can they let Castiel go wandering aroung on his own?**

* * *

Charlie Bradbury was having a quiet night at home alone. Well, physically alone, at least. And she wasn't sure many people would classify a night of slaughtering virtual orcs as "quiet". But she was having a blast. She made some tea and fell on the couch with a sigh as she put her headset on.

"Alright, boys, we're going in," she warned her guild, sipping her tea. "Everybody ready?"

She received a mumble in German from the other side.

"Günther says he needs to go to the bathroom," Spruce translated.

"Again?" Mikey complained, with a note if irritation in his sophisticated British accent. "Blimey, Günther, you need to get your bloody kidneys checked!"

Günther said something that sounded insulting, probably about Mikey's mother. He understood English well enough when it was convenient for him, he just didn't bother to speak it.

"Alright, you have five minutes," Charlie conceded. There weren't really many things that could disturb her quiet, quiet night. "Once we are in, we are not coming out until there are no orcs standing."

Günther garbled something else and then, Charlie imagined, got away from the keyboard. She kept drinking her tea, relaxed.

"So how you've been, guys?" she asked the two remaining members.

"Good, good," Spruce answered. "We are preparing a new project for Ghostfacers."

"I cannot believe you're still at that, Spruce," Mikey said, derisive. "There are nothing but light tricks and the wind blowing in at the right moment."

"Hey, don't mock it," Spruce told him. "I've seen some shit, bro."

Charlie, that had seen some shit herself and had friends that actually made a living out of facing ghosts, was going to defend Spruce when an avalanche of German words interrupted her.

"What? Günther, slow down, I didn't catch that," Spruce said. Günther repeated his statement, slower, but still rather hysterically. "What'd you want us to look outside the window for?"

It was instinctive. Charlie turned her head, and looked. Her hands went rigid around the cup of tea, and her jaw seemed to have dislocated the way she opened her mouth.

"No way!" Spruce said. "Charlie, are you seeing this?"

"You mean it's happening over there too?" asked Mikey. His voice was panic-stricken.

Charlie got up to take a better look, the headset still hanging around her neck, unable to move, unable to believe what her eyes were seeing.

Suddenly, that quiet, quiet night had begun spitting all the stars out.

Or at least that's how it seemed: thousands of beams of golden light were free-falling from the sky. Charlie had heard about meteor showers, but she never imagined something as clear, as massive as that. It was unnerving. Like something wasn't right about it…

Then, it happened. It lasted a split of a second, and Charlie almost missed it, too busy screaming and dropping her cup of tea, but at the last moment, she saw it.

One of the beams of golden light rushed down right next to her window, and lit up her apartment, like the sun had come up several hours early. The brightness blinded her for a moment, but still her eyes registered something her brain refused to believe at first: among the light, there was a human face.

Afterwards, there was the loud noise of something heavy hitting the ground. The window's glass vibrated like it was about to break, and the pieces of broken porcelain clattered against the floor. Charlie's legs were shaking, and she had to cling onto the couch's back to avoid suffering the same fate as her cup.

"Charlie?" her guild was calling. "Charlie, are you there? Are you alright?"

"Oh, guys," Charlie muttered, in shock. "Something bad has happened."

"I need to call my team," Spruce said.

"No!" Charlie caught herself screaming, so she toned her voice down. "No, Spruce… this isn't the right time to be playing Ghostfacers, okay? This… this is really bad. I gotta go."

"Charlie, what…?"

"Don't leave your house," she ordered him. "And the same to you, Mikey, Günther."

Before any of them could answer, Charlie turned off her computer and threw it inside her bag. She considered putting some clothes in it too, but that was secondary. What mattered was that she get going. Right away. She took her car keys and practically flew downstairs.

Of course, she wasn't the only one that had decided to run out to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Several neighbors had congregated in the middle of the street, and were talking to each other excitedly. Some were still pointing at the sky, open-mouthed, while others were looking down in surprise. Charlie realized immediately why: right in front of them, there was a crater on the concrete.

She didn't stop to think. She elbowed her way through the crowd until she reached the front, and ascertained what she feared deep inside her gut.

Inside the crater, there was a young man, wearing a suit that was dirty from all the debris. He had an expression of alarm and perplexity, but Charlie recognized him easily. It was the same face she'd caught a glimpse of amongst the light.

"Oh, my God," she said, and did what no one else was going to do: she stepped forward and kneeled next to the man. "Are you alright?"

The man looked at her in utter confusion, like he couldn't understand what she was saying. He had an ugly cut on the side of his head that was bleeding profusely.

"Somebody call 911!" Charlie screamed at the curious crowd. "Can't you see he's hurt?" She grabbed the man's hand. "Can you speak?" she asked him. "Do you know your name?"

"Ma… Manakel," the man stuttered.

"Manakel," Charlie repeated. "Don't be afraid. Help is on the way."

Almost like answering her words, the echo of a siren started resounding far away.

"I don't understand," Manakel said. "I was… I was…"

"Easy," Charlie said. "Take it easy, it's all going to be okay…"

For some reason, those words made Manakel grab her hand even tighter. An expression of anguish grew in his eyes.

"This is his fault!" he said. "Metatron, he did this!"

"Okay," Charlie said, putting her free hand on his shoulder so he wouldn't move too much. "Don't stress yourself."

"Castiel," Manakel said. "I have to… we have to find Castiel. He has… he can…"

Charlie didn't have time to tell him to calm down again, because the paramedics arrived and started taking care of Manakel, who still didn't seem to quite grasp what was going on. Charlie didn't let go of his hand until they put him on a stretcher and then carried him into the ambulance. All that time, he didn't stop talking about his brothers, Castiel and Metatron, whoever those were.

"Castiel!" he shouted at Charlie right before the paramedics closed the ambulance's door. "We need Castiel!"

Castiel, Charlie repeated to herself. Where had she heard that name before?

The vehicle went away beeping, and the crowd started to disperse, still talking, wondering what the next day would bring. Charlie could tell them right then: nothing good.

With her bag slapping against her hip, Charlie ran to her car and started it. She barely had time to realize the stars had stopped falling down.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Charlie was driving at top speed towards Lebanon, Kansas, at the same time she frantically manipulated her cell phone.

"This is Dean's other, other, other number," the recorded voice of her friend told her. "If it's an emergency, feel free to leave a message. If it isn't, then stop fucking around, I got work to do."

"This _is_ an emergency, Dean!" Charlie exclaimed after the tone. "Where the hell are you?"

She didn't want to think something had happened to them. She didn't want to imagine the Winchesters; Sam, pale, and haggard, and coughing blood, and Dean, impotent, wanting to help the people falling from the stars, but unable to leave his brother's side…

Charlie threw the cell phone on the passenger seat, and forced herself to focus just on what was in front of her, on the road, and nothing else.

The yellow lines. A lamp post. The trees, all dark and ominous. Another lamp post. A man in a trench coat walking on the side of the road…

Charlie stomped on the breaks so hard the tires creaked, and then turned around so fast it'd probably had earned her a ticket on at least forty eight states.

Castiel. The angel in the trench coat. The Winchesters' angel. Cas.

Of course, it was likely that this was a common man in a common trench coat, but Charlie Bradbury didn't believe in coincidences. Not anymore, and especially not that night. She got out of the car and ran towards him.

"Castiel?" she inquired. The man stared at her in silence, his head slightly tilted. Under the lamp post light, Charlie could see his face was dirty and his eyes reddened, like he had been crying. "Are you Castiel?" she asked again.

The man seemed astonished, and Charlie was about to apologize and get back in the car, when he reacted.

"Yes," he said. "That is my name."

His voice was a raspy whisper, and it sounded hesitant, like he was about to burst into tears again. Charlie felt a hit on the chest. Just to see how desperate and alone he looked, she wanted to cry as well.

"I'm Charlie," she said, trying to keep her voice firm. "I'm a friend… a friend of Sam and Dean."

"Are you?" Castiel asked. His eyes were narrowed, like he was trying to see something that wasn't there, something that was there before, but now, for some reason, he couldn't find it. He stumbled, and Charlie rushed to his side.

"Are you alright?" she asked, for like it felt the thousandth time that night. "Can I help you? Can I get you anything?"

"Can you…?" Castiel began, and had to stop to swallow before continuing. "Can you take me to them? Please?"

"Of course," Charlie said, and helped Castiel reach the car. "Of course. Get in. We'll be there in a couple of hours."

Castiel didn't seem to comprehend that, or maybe he didn't think it needed an answer. He just sank on the seat. Charlie got back behind the wheel, more anxious and worried than before.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked him. "Do you know if they're okay?" She supposed she didn't need to clarify who she meant.

Castiel didn't say anything, staring out the window like he was expecting some kind of cue. Then, undecidedly, making a lot of pauses, he told Charlie a story about angel tablets, God's scribes and treasons. He talked for a while, stopping every now and then to suffocate a sob, or to ask Charlie how long until they got to the Winchesters.

Charlie kept telling him they were closer. She didn't make out much of Castiel's story, but just enough to know two things: Castiel was no longer an angel, and all of them (Charlie, the Winchesters, the angels, humanity) were in some big ass trouble.

Around four o'clock in the morning, they stopped at a gas station to fill the tank and to get some coffee so Charlie could drive the stretch they still had to go until reaching Lebanon. Castiel didn't want to leave the car, even though Charlie was certain he must've been hungry.

"A sandwich for you," she said, giving him the foil package. "It's ham. I assume that if you've travelled with Dean, you must've acquired a taste for meat."

"Thank you," Castiel said, absently. He unwrapped the sandwich and stared at it, like he wasn't sure what to do next.

Charlie drank from her extra large disposable cup of coffee, tasting it, giving it time to reach her brain.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Castiel asked, out of the blue.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Charlie asked back, a little off-balance by the sudden question.

"You don't even know me," Castiel pointed. "And I just told you I'm to blame for all of… this," he added, gesturing towards the sky, like he expected more shooting stars or angels to start falling again.

Charlie let some seconds pass before replying, choosing her words carefully.

"I don't think it was your intention, Cas," she said. The angel (or former angel), didn't seem offended that she used his nickname, so Charlie continued: "And besides, Dean has told me some pretty good things about you."

"Has he?" Castiel looked up, like he couldn't believe that last part. Charlie forced a smile.

"Sure he has. You're his friend," she said. "Here on Earth, we have a saying: the friend of my friend is also my friend."

For the first time, Castiel didn't look like he was knee deep in the most absolute misery. The ghost of the weakest of smiles crossed his lips.

"I like that saying," he commented.

"It's an excellent saying," Charlie agreed. She finished her coffee and threw the cup out the window. It wasn't really the time to worry about the environment. "Well, let's keep going. If we hurry, we might be there by sunrise."

She turned on the engine, and they went back on the road. The car was swiftly swallowed by the night, that, once was again, was as quiet as if nothing had happened.


End file.
